


What's Your Story?

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Canto Bight, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gags, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, Time 2 Ruin Some Expensive Underthings, boring old missionary sex, but let's not think about those, get naked with the slicer, there are probably some deeper issues at play here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 08:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Canto Bight is about as boring as a playground can get.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's porn ok

Maybe you were feeling sorry for yourself. 

You had really liked Rayf. You hadn’t loved him, obviously, you weren’t stupid enough to think what you had was more than a fling, but you’d liked him more than you’d admit. It wasn’t his fault he was everything you’d been told you wanted – intelligent, witty, cultured, dashing, and ludicrously, unfeasibly, inadvisably wealthy. So when he had offered, in tones equal parts exuberant and unequivocal – 

“- You simply must come with me to the opera, darling – “

You’d reluctantly agreed, taking in very little but the champagne delivered to your box. After what you assumed to be a divine production, you were quickly whisked away, back to your rooms above the bathhouses. You were taking in the view when soft hands began roving up your thighs from behind, and you let yourself be led to bed, where, for the second time that night, the acting of at least one performer was truly exemplary, if the whole experience left a lot to be desired.

After another day of doing very little beyond having your already carefree body massaged to no end, you stood facing the wall mirror, applying lip colour with precision.  
“– Darling, it’s one thing to bring your arm candy with you to the opera, it’s another entirely to unleash one at the viscount’s ball – “ 

You were grateful, despite the crass nature he’d revealed himself, to have a night away from him. The ball was on an artificial satellite just within orbit, and with your luck and his excessive drinking, Rayf would be spending the night between the legs of some moderately attractive someone-or-other with a title longer than the ears on a fathier. It would be good to have a night to yourself, and, quickly realising that without an experienced aristocratic playboy to serve as guide, much of Canto Bight’s appeal made little sense to you. Instead, you found yourself with a reliable friend: alcohol. It made good people-watching, the view over the rim of your glass, as all sorts of species seemed to gather in this strange little bar on the beach that seemed more illegal than legal. The drink was strong, though, so you were hardly going to report anyone. 

“Drinking alone, d-doll? That’s a shame.”

“Excuse me?”

You turned your attentions from your drink to the man who’d taken up residence next to you. He looked like the generic lowlifes whose clinging eyes and groping hands Rayf had so gallantly seen off by virtue of existing. 

He was older – old enough that just talking to you like this was enough for you to know he was audacious at best. And, unfortunately, he was handsome. Not in the way you liked – unlined, blissfully unaware faces, glistening white teeth, soft bodies fed on just too much good food. No, he was…rough. Battered, wrinkled coat, scuffed boots, gaudy jewellery. None of it matched. Most of it was profoundly ugly. 

But underneath the gold and leather, he wasn’t unattractive. Older, yes, but handsome. He sat with one foot on the floor and one on his stool, balanced haphazardly. You occupied his full attention, and his body – tall, broad, you hated that you noticed it – cut off most of your view of the room. Messy hair, dark eyes, and a taunting smile. 

“So what’s a g-gal like you doing in a place like th-this?” he asked, the tired line sounding almost natural rolling off his tongue.

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe. You with anyone? Got some beau hiding away outside?”

“Yes and no.”

“M-m-mysterious.” He smiled at you. You were shocked that he still appeared to have all of his teeth. “That usually means n-no.”

“Maybe I’m not usual,” you countered, turning your attentions back to your drink.

“Maybe not.” He lay one elbow on the wooden bar, hand up to catch the eye of the mixologist at the other end. “T-two negronis,” he ordered with confidence, before turning back to you, halfway through the same, “- and another for the l-lady, as well.” 

“So, miss unusual,” he drawled out, borderline leering at you, “I’m guessing you d-don’t have any big plans tonight.”

You didn’t respond.

“Want to change that?”

“Why don’t you ask that lovely specimen over there?” You jerked your head in the direction of a blonde on the other side of the bar, deep in conversation with two fingers of cognac and not much else. “I’m sure she can give you exactly what you’re looking for. Or not. How deep do your pockets run?”

He looked her up and down shamelessly, but didn’t seem taken. 

“She’s pretty. You’re p-p-prettier.”

“I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m feeling down. A perfect stranger thinks I’m pretty.”

He put his hand to his chest, mouth pursed in mock offence.

“Strangers? Oh, w-we know each other.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. You and me? We go way back. B-bored housewife in the making? Dashing scoundrel? We’ve met before.”

“Healthy ego you’ve got.”

“But not inaccurate.”

“Maybe not on your end, but you’ve got me wrong.”

“How’s that?”

“It’s just sex.”

“J-just sex? That’s a sad way of seeing, doll.”

“It is what it is.”

“Could it be better?”

Bold. He was certainly bold. Instead of responding, you drained the glass, staring ahead at the bartender with intent before raising one hand to point at the rapidly disappearing cocktail. He got the message, and you drummed your hands in silence until a new glass, squat and sharp, was placed in front of you. 

You looked sideways at the man next to you.

“You should know I won’t hesitate to throw that in your face.”

“I don’t doubt it. I like that in a woman.”

“I don’t really care what you like.”

“Hey, I like that, too. I’d like it even more if you’d c-consider taking a little stroll with me.”

“So there’ll be fewer witnesses when you rob me?”

“That’s not exactly the kind of pr-prying eyes I was hoping to get away from. Why? Do you want me to?”

“Want you to what?”

His dark brows furrowed slightly as his deepset eyes narrowed, his lower lip now caught between his teeth. He was looking at you like a predator ready to strike.  
You should have thought about this more. You should have weighed the options, seen one come up very obviously short, and left then and there, alone. But stars, this mangy freak was the most interesting thing to happen to you in ages, and at least, for once in your life you felt alive. Blood was coursing through you, and it was warm and angry and more than a little tipsy, but you could feel it, feel anything at all for first time in far too long. And so you downed your drink.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the porn. This is the first time I've written smut in over a year, and I'm definitely not wild about it, but I'm so frustrated with fussing over this and that detail that fuck it, it's porn, here it is. It's bad. But it's done.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“Depends. Where’d you s-say you were staying?”

“I didn’t,” you got up, and for a second he looked surprised, be it the suddenness of the movement or the change of heart. You adjusted the thin chain of your handbag, and turned towards the door.

“It is awfully late,” you said dispassionately, looking back at the rapt man over one shoulder, “and hardly safe for a lady to be out walking alone at this hour.”

Your heels clacked against the sticky floor, their rhythm soon joined by the heavier footfalls of worn boots.

The two of you said nothing to each other on the walk back to the bathhouses. The only words you exchanged were with the doorman, all ten feet of him standing watch in the eternal brightness of the ever-buzzing streets of Canto Bight. You exchanged more than pleasantries, slipping him a valuable little trinket for the sake of discretion.

You led the way, shoes sinking into the plush carpeting, each step deliberate to avoid losing your balance. As you climbed the grand staircase to your suite, you realised that there was no one ascending with you. 

“Don’t mind me. Just luxuriating in this excellent view,” came from behind you. He’d paused a few steps done, eyes glued to your ass. 

If you weren’t in public, you would have yelled at him to hurry before you changed your mind about this entire idea, but instead you forced a smile and continued to your suite.

The moment the door slid shut behind you he grabbed you by the arm, whirled you around and pressed you against it, so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Your breaths were short and shallow. This was such a bad idea. 

“Worried you made a m-mistake, doll?” he chuckled, his eyes dark with desire, but no danger.

“Of course I have. Take your fucking coat off.”

“Do it for me.”

You grabbed at the lapels of his trench coat, shoving them to the sides before clawing at his shoulders, pushing it off to his elbows.

“Can you do the rest yourself, or are you going to be so lazy all night?”

“Gladly,” the word came out aggressive, and he stripped it off, letting it fall in a heap to the floor. As soon as it hit the ground, his hands were up again, one at your jaw and the other gripping you at the waist, pulling you into a harsh kiss that was demanding and desperate and absolutely magnetic, his lips were on yours and his tongue as skirting your lips and his stubble was tickling your skin, he was there and human and digging his hands into you with no concern for what it would like tomorrow. This moment was infinite, and bruises didn’t matter, and everything was perfect.

You let out a little wanting whine when he pulled away to lay a series of kisses on your neck, the scruff on his jaw as rough as his lips were light. It wasn’t enough, you needed more. Fumbling blindly, you tried to force any distance between your bodies, your hands struggling to undo his belt. He didn’t move, his face still buried in your neck. 

“That’s real cute and all, sweetheart, but why d-don’t you suck my cock?”

Before you could respond he’d crushed his lips against yours again, and you melted in response, letting him slip his tongue against yours with surprising tenderness as his nails sank into your hips. You broke away first, grabbing his hair with both hands and pressing down gently.

“Eat me out first and I’ll consider it.”

“Of c-course,” he grinned, tongue darting out between his lips as one hand roughly pulled at the hem of your dress, revealing your thighs, “but you’ll need to get rid of these.”

Taking the hem of your underwear in both hands, he yanked hard until they snapped unceremoniously, the pain from the straining fabric tugging against your skin causing you to cry out. Before you could protest, he’d stuffed the ruined thing into your open mouth. You could taste yourself on the silk.

As he settled onto his knees in front of you, you felt his breath, hot and uneven, against your skin, and his hands – nowhere near as rough as you thought – found their way to your thighs, pushing them so far apart you were left on tiptoe. 

With one hand braced against your thighs, he reached up with the other, carefully separating your lips with one long finger. You drew in a ragged breath, just barely able to get enough air behind the gag, eyes closed and head hitting the door behind you, anticipating sweet relief – and then it was gone.

“S-sorry about that,” you heard muffled from underneath you, and looked down to see him removing the rings on one hand, letting them fall to the floor without caring where. 

You reached down, one hand fisted in his dark hair, pulling him harder and closer than you needed to. The back of his hand hit the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough to make you squeak before the fingers of his still-adorned hand gripped it harshly, forcing them wide open and leaving you exposed. 

You’d hoped he would be mercenary. He wasn’t. His tongue was slow, gentle. He licked broad stripes against you, dark eyes looking up, never breaking contact. That tongue was so warm and so wet and so real. He was relentless.

You were being eaten out by some fucker you’d met not an hour before, and it felt better than anything had in months. 

You felt him begin to explore your entrance with the tip of his tongue, probing delicately before pulling away, and your grip tightened in his hair. Your thighs twitched involuntarily as he slid two fingers inside, the sweet sensation of finally being filled coaxing a muffled moan from you.

You could have cried when he shifted, his lips closing around your clit and sucking lightly at it. The feel of him, his fingers, the swift flicks of his tongue, it was overwhelming and exquisite and all too much, just too much - 

You screamed behind the improvised gag, the hand not caught in his hair pounding against the door. Your legs clamped against either side of his head as you came, hard, all your frustrations and resentment ebbing away as a moment of pure and unavoidable bliss consumed you.

But he didn’t stop. His fingers pumped in and out of you as you writhed in the throes of your climax, keeping up a steady, excruciating rhythm that was so perfect and so intense as you tried to come down from your release. You looked down, begging him to stop with your eyes, but his stared back with earned confidence as he fucked his fingers into you again and again. He studied the way your face contorted as his tongue ravaged your cunt, dark eyes never shifting from your face. 

You could feel it building in you and knew this man was going to make you come again, whether you were ready for it or not. Your legs were shaking, the nails of your free hand were scraping the door, you could barely keep your eyes open.

And then you heard a deep voice rumble from under you, “Come on my f-fingers, sweetheart.”

The pad of a large thumb rubbed circles against your clit, and you were powerless to resist. You came, again. He won. 

Your head was spinning, you were outside time and space, and then you could fully breathe again. Lips that tasted like sex and anticipation were on yours, and your hands were  
around his neck as you slumped towards the floor, boneless legs giving out. You let him guide you down to the carpet floor, his discarded coat still underneath the two of you as your lips met and gasped and sucked on overheated skin. 

You managed to get out a few words in between kisses.

“Fuck me.”

He let out a little low chuckle at your request, playfully biting at your collar bone before standing up. He offered you his hand, and you took it gratefully, still feeling unmoored. 

“What’s the point of such decadent c-confines if you’re just going to f-fuck on the floor?” he asked, traipsing over to sit on the bed. 

“Feels more real. It’s raw.”

“You want raw hips, too? You’re a d-demanding little number.”

You followed him, standing a few feet away as he took off his boots. You watched his clever fingers – still glistening in the yellow light – undo the lacings before pulling the shoes off, leaving him barefoot but still entirely too dressed in front of you.

Trying your best to sound seductive, you whispered, “take your shirt off, too.”

He looked up at you, thick eyebrows slightly raised in expectation. 

“Then take your dress off.” 

“Gladly,” you retorted, matching his tone, one arm reaching back to undo the fastening holding it in place. It was a fiddly bit of work – or, at least, it was fiddlier than when you had put it on a few drinks and hours earlier – but easy enough, and you let it fall gracelessly at your feet in a puddle of jewel-toned silk. There was no possibility of wearing a bra with a thing like this, and so now you were stripped bare before him, totally nude but for your heels – and you kicked those off, too.

His full lips parted slightly as he took you in like a master’s sculpture, eyes roaming over every inch of your body. His perfect tongue wetted his lips before he spoke.

“Come closer.”

You took a step forward to stand in front of him, and he parted his knees to draw you in further.

One hand travelled from your calf to settle at your hip, his touch light, almost cautious.

“Fuck,” he said, a broad smile cracking his concentration before he addressed you again, “I mean, I know I’ve got good t-taste, but you’re something else altogether. You know that, sw-sweetheart?”

“I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he nodded, “turn around.”

You did, awkwardly manoeuvring yourself in the limited space between his knees. 

“G-gorgeous,” you heard him growl out, and you felt his palms against your ass, cupping the skin.

“Tell you what, doll, I ain’t seen an ass like this in years.” He punctuated his statement with a swift crack across your right cheek, startling you.

You glared at him from over your shoulder, hoping you still looked as intimidating naked.

“Do you mind?”

He shrugged. “How else do you g-get it to jiggle?”

“You could ask first.”

“Eh, I could do a lot of things,” he answered noncommittally before finally taking his shirt off. He balled it up, throwing it vaguely in the direction of his coat before standing up behind you, his impossibly broad chest flush with your back. The sensation of his skin against yours, without barriers, without artifice, was enough to make you whine. 

One of his hands snaked its way up your belly to grasp one your breasts, the other pausing to brush your hair to one side so he could lay kisses along the base of your neck before joining. While he rolled your nipples between skilled fingers, you could feel his breath on your neck, and, far more importantly, the rough fabric of his trousers against your backside. His cock was stiff, and you were beyond ready, and these clothes were between you and it.

You reached one hand behind you, palming the length of him through his clothes until his hips jerked into your hand. A low groan resonated in your ear.

“Get on the bed.”

You broke free of his embrace reluctantly, and sank down into the magnificent softness of the mattress, acutely aware that this man was still very much a criminal and you were a naked girl in a probably soundproofed suite who had bribed the only person who knew you were here to look the other way. 

His hands reached to undo his trousers, but his eyes – dark, burning, devouring – never left your body. You propped yourself up on both arms to watch him raptly as he undressed. He flashed a lopsided grin at you as he pushed his trousers down, finally freeing his cock. 

“Let’s defile this place.”

He knelt on the bed, and you settled your legs on his shoulder, giving him total and full access to your aching cunt.

You watched his eyelids flutter as he entered you, a low, inhuman sound coming from his throat as you took in his thick cock, pulsing around it as you tried to accommodate the size.

“Shit, that’s t-tight.”

He pulled out halfway before pushing slowly in again, and you groaned from the sweet friction.

“D-don’t know how long I’ll last in this sw-sweet little pussy,” he hissed behind clenched teeth, “feels fucking amazing.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you said, raking your nails down his back. 

“Absolutely.”

He withdrew his cock fully now before slamming his hips back into you, fucking you roughly, the sounds of skin hitting skin and your own moans filling the otherwise silent space. 

The angle of his thrusts was deep, complete, fulfilling. It felt right- though you’d be walking funny in the morning. He pounded into you without any hesitation, filling you again and again, stretching you around his cock. This nameless man was fucking you within an inch your sanity, and you could feel yourself close to unravelling with him inside you.

“Going to come – don’t you dare fucking stop –“ you gasped out, in between thrusts that left you breathless.

“Wouldn’t dr-dream of it,” 

You could feel a different type of pressure building inside you, primal and begging for release. He moved faster, deeper into you, fucking you like a ragdoll, and you cried out as something inside you snapped. Your cunt convulsed around him, milking his cock and making him growl.

His hips stuttered, and you knew from his breathing that he was close. You sank your nails into his shoulders, barely cogent as you came down from the delirious height of your climax.

“Come in me.”

His face contorted, his mouth wide open as he emptied himself into you. He paused, cock still inside you as he drew a few more ragged breaths. Then he collapsed on top of you, your bodies clinging together through thin films of sweat. You rolled him off you, grateful for the cool air.

“You got another round in you?”

He laughed, running one hand through your hair before propping himself up on one elbow.

“Why don’t we order s-something to the room and see where the n-night takes us?”


End file.
